Saturday, April 11, 2020

First chapter...


Sliabh na Caillighe

The boy sat leaning against one of the large gray stones, enjoying the warmth of the early sunlight after the chill of the night. He had a hunk of stale barley bread in his right hand, having saved it for his breakfast, but he was not eating it; instead he was thinking back to the ritual he had witnessed the night before. The sunlight shone on his shoulder-length black hair, and sparkled in his inwardly-gazing dark eyes. He was seven years old, and should not have spent the night alone on the hill, but he was as indifferent to the possible dangers from wolves or wild men as he was to the beating that he would probably get when he returned to his father’s ráth below. Fráechán always went his own way, whatever the cost...

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